Learning to Love Another Ch. 03

A Fair Model

*****

This next chapter picks up one week later. How's that for continuity? It's one of my stranger chronicles as well, and I debated even including it; but here you go.

*****

It was a Monday morning in the short interim time between the end of spring semester and the beginning of summer semester, and I was posting a flyer at the pool. It was the official end of my sophomore year (though I was half-way through my junior curriculum due to summers) and the end of my roommate time with Angel. We had moved her to her new apartment that weekend, and I had come back to a place of my own with a big Angel-shaped absence in it and a certain loudmouth cat craving attention.

The upshot was that she was only two hours away, so I really could see her without much trouble if we both had time. This was the only positive. I was about to start serious upper-level major classes next term now that my main math and physics sequences had run their course, and Angel was about to kick off an MBA and internship program. We wouldn't have time for a while. We agreed that this was probably good though to get us through the first several weeks apart. Nothing keeps you focused and away from moping like having too much to do.

The other thing on my plate was that I needed to find a roommate before the end of the month to take over Angel's half of rent and utilities. My friend Rodney would have been perfect, but he had also graduated. All the other girls I knew already had living arrangements settled or didn't stay for summer term, so I was starting from scratch. I opted against putting anything on the gay & lesbian organization bulletin board. I was out to my friends, but not to everyone. What I did do was to put a roommate wanted flyer up at the pool. That, I decided, seemed like a sensible way of finding someone at least remotely compatible.

*****

"Hello?" I answered the phone that afternoon.

"Is this Elain -- the one looking for a roommate?" a girl's voice asked.

"Yes, it is."

"My name is Jessika. I was touring campus today and saw your flyer at the university pool. I'm moving to town next week to start a graduate degree in graphic design, and I need a place to live that's not on campus but close to it like your flyer said."

"That's what I've got. The duplex is about a mile off campus. I'm an undergraduate student, and my old roommate just graduated and moved off to do an MBA."

"Cool, what can you tell me about the place?"

I gave her the rundown on how the rooms were laid out and how we'd be sharing a bedroom, bathroom, and closet. It was a small place but could be deceptively roomy if you didn't mind living closely. She seemed okay with all that.

"The rent is something I can afford, and I don't smoke or mind a cat. Do you think we could meet and see if it could work out for us?"

"Sure. Do you want to just come over here or should we meet somewhere else that is easy for you?"

"How about the pizza place next to campus for dinner? I already know where that is at least."

"That will work," I said. I had nothing else going on. "You say you saw the flyer at the pool. Do you swim, then?"

"Yeah, some. Not competitively, though, just for exercise. I do some modeling, and it's an easy way to stay in shape."

"No kidding? I'm just in it for the exercise too. I'm not shaped right to be a competitive swimmer."

"Huh... Say, how do I recognize you at the pizza place?"

"Oh, I'm easy to spot. I've got lots of red hair."

"Really? Hmm..."

"What?"

"Um... nothing. I'll see you there at... say six o'clock?"

"Okay by me."

"All right then, bye."

That was strange, but I had no idea how strange it would get.

*****

I got to the pizza place about ten minutes early and got a table near the door. I had been there long enough to get a big red plastic cup of Diet Coke and to assure the waitress that I wasn't ready to order yet, when a young woman dressed in expensive clothes came in the door. I could tell instantly that it must have been this Jessika person. She was gorgeous, and she walked like model.

She turned to scan the restaurant for me, and my jaw dropped in shock. It had been a couple of years and her hair was different, but I recognized her face instantly. She spotted me two seconds later and her hand leapt to her mouth to cover her gasp.

"Oh my god -- it is you!"

The last time I had seen her, she was naked and flushed at my feet with her fingers pressed deep into her pussy. She had called herself Jodi, the girl from the pool shower back home.

*****

"No way! What are you going to do?" Angel asked.

I had called her immediately after walking back in the door after dinner.

"We're going to give it a try," I said. "We couldn't think of a reason not to."

"I can think of a thousand reasons not to!" Angel said. "What about how she feels about you, for starters? This girl used to secretly (and then not so secretly) masturbate while watching you shower. She also lied to you about her name. What's her take on that and on trust and on personal space, huh?"

"We talked about all that," I said patiently. I wasn't surprised by Angel's reaction. She is very protective of those she loves.

"We were very honest with each other, and what it comes down to is that we're both very different people than we were two years ago when that happened. We're both into other women though, and neither of us is dating anyone right now, but we figured we'd go into this as purely roommates.

"The big plus is that I don't really have anything to hide from her, nor she from me. We've kind of already broken that ice. I can keep living like I already do without being untrue to who I am. She can too. She says that she's also comfortable with being naked around the house."

"I bet she is," Angel said. "Look, this all sounds completely backwards and awfully fast to me. You date someone for a while, then fall in love, then move in together. You don't start at the end and work the other way."

"You and I sort of did."

"I knew you were going to say that!" she said, exasperated. "You and I are different. We're one in a million, and we were friends before we became roommates."

"I won't disagree with you, baby," I said and then went quiet.

"You're really comfortable with this?"

"I don't know," I said and admitted a lot in just those three words. "If anything romantic or sexual develops, it will happen in its own time if at all. I promise you that we're not going into it with that in mind. Worst case -- things are perpetually awkward, and she moves back out."

"I guess so," she replied. "Just promise me three things."

"Sure."

"First, that you protect yourself. I don't want anybody hurting you. I don't care who she is or how pretty she is."

"Okay, I got that."

"Second, that you don't let her put a wedge between us. I had you first."

"Not a chance. That's a deal breaker in my opinion. If she doesn't like you, there's something wrong with her. What's number three?"

"If you do develop a relationship with each other that heads in a romantic direction, and you do end up having sex with her, then I get to hear all about it."

"You know it, big sister."

*****

Jessi moved in at the end of that week and we set about redefining the space. I got a full-size bed to replace my little twin bed and put it against the far wall of our bedroom where Angel's desk had been. I also moved my dresser down to that end of the room as well. Jessi put her full-sized bed where my bed had been and put her dressing table (a makeup table really) in the middle of the long wall opposite the window between our beds (in the other long wall). The mirror over the dressing table caught the light from the window and made the room look bigger and lighter. She moved all her clothes into half the closet and two free-standing clothes racks -- that girl had a lot of clothes -- and her stuff into her half of the bathroom. She didn't have any kitchen stuff to speak of and Angel had given the basic living room furniture to me (so she wouldn't have to move it), so there was nothing to move in there.

That was it. She was in, and despite all our best intentions, it was incredibly awkward to begin with. We'd seen each other totally naked and orgasmic in our first contact two years earlier, but we didn't really know each other beyond that one pizza dinner, and we didn't want to define our whole friendship forward by that first purely sexual contact. It was going to take a little time to just settle into a space with each other.

There were lots of mundane things to sort out, like how each person hung up her towels and how long either of us took to shower in the morning, to who got up early and who stayed up later, to what kind of milk to buy and what television shows were essential to see. It was all just the normal crap you have to go through when you share living space with someone, but there was an edge of genuine discomfort to it all.

What a lot of it came down to was that we were unreasonably shy around each other despite having a precondition that it was unnecessary to be so. We each were also working way too hard to not look like some kind of slut, that I don't think either one of us even thought anything sexually explicit in those first three days. I even wore clothes to bed for the first time in almost two years until the fourth night I finally re-broke the ice.

"Jessi-K," I called to her from the bedroom.

"Yes, Miss E?" she answered from the kitchen table, where she was parked with her computer.

The nicknames were the only things that had happened naturally and spontaneously so far. They fell into place during her moving in and stuck. "Jessi-K" was a combination of her normal nickname, Jessi and the way she automatically introduced herself to people, "Jessika, with a K." Mine was a takeoff of what one of guys who delivered my new bed called me, "Miss Elain", which, the way he said it, sounded a lot like "misaligned". Jessi softened it to just "Miss E" or sometimes just "E".

"You got a minute to come in and talk to me?"

"Sure," she said, and I heard the chair scrape back.

"What's up?" she asked as she came in and flopped on her bed to talk.

"We need to get some things over with," I began. "The atmosphere in here over the past few days has been so thick with all the things that we're intentionally not saying and actively not doing that I'm uncomfortable in my own house."

She nodded. She was a sharp girl, and I could tell that none of this was news to her.

"We talked about this before you moved in, but neither of us has taken any action because we're trying so hard to not make it a big deal out of it. I'm sick of it, so I'm going to go ahead and make a big deal out of it."

Her eyes widened as I took off my shirt. I was already braless underneath it.

"These are my tits. They're bouncy and huge. You've seen them before, but here they are again in full view."

"This," I continued and dropped my shorts and underwear all at once, "is my pussy. It's... um... pink, and it has red hair. I like to play with it frequently. You've seen it before too, and you'll probably be seeing a lot more of it since prefer to sleep naked, and some days I just don't like to get dressed.

"About language in the house -- I don't like the word cunt because some asshole frat boy called me that once, and he meant it in a hurtful way. It ruined the word for me. I am comfortable with language like pussy, tits, fuck, cock, cum, ass, and masturbate. Everything else is okay too, I guess.

"There," I said finally and sat down on my bed. "We're not strangers anymore. Now that that's out of the way, I hope you are actually okay with all this like we said, because I don't feel like putting my clothes back on in my own damn bedroom."

The whole unveiling took less than a minute, and apart from a slight blush and her wide eyes, Jessi had remained completely composed through it all. She blinked slowly, appeared to reach a decision, then stood up and in a few graceful moves removed all her clothes to stand there as bare as me. She turned and climbed up to stand in the middle of her bed, and after a moment for dramatic effect, started jumping and twirling around and giggling like crazy. She even did a couple aerial splits and then finally bounced down to lie on her back and pant for breath in the midst of her laughter.

"Thank you, E," she said once she got some wind back. "I've been waiting for three days to do something like that and was just too afraid to do it. You're right; of course, we've been taking all this way too seriously. I feel so much better now."

"Good," I said and laughed in stunned relief at the spectacle I had just witnessed.

"Thanks for re-breaking the ice. I'm so used to being naked in front of veritable strangers because of my modeling experience, that it felt totally unnatural to not be comfortable being naked in my own home."

"Wow, you have a nice body," I said in unashamed honesty. "I had forgotten how nice it was."

"Thank you, E. That's sweet of you to say."

She sat up and perched on the edge of her bed facing me.

"These are my tits. They're small, but they fit my body. You've seen them before, but here they are again," she echoed me. "I love my nipples, personally."

"This," she continued, spreading her knees, "is my pussy. I have it waxed, so it's completely bare. You've seen it too, but here's a good look at it. I'm fine with all the words you said, too. I don't even mind cunt, but I won't say it anyway."

"Oh, oh, more stuff," she said suddenly and clapped her hands. She hopped up and went over to her dressing table. Out of one of its drawers, she pulled a medium sized vibrator and a little vibrator.

"These are my toys. I use them sometimes, but most of the time, I just like to touch myself. I masturbate pretty frequently, too."

"I guess we definitely aren't strangers anymore," I replied and walked over to my dresser to remove G-Man and Little Vibe. "These are mine: G-Man and Little Vibe."

"Oh wow," she said, looking at G-Man. "I've seen one of those but never tried one. Does it really work?"

"It definitely does on me!"

"One of my old girlfriends showed me my G-spot," she said, making the crooked finger shape with her hand. "I can't reach it easily by myself though. I might have to get one of these."

"Try that one whenever you want," I said. "I always clean it afterward."

"I'll do that, and you can use these anytime you want to," she said. "I keep them clean too, but obviously don't use the little one in your pussy just to be safe."

"Why not?"

She paused for a few seconds then answered, "Because it's for your ass."

"Oh, nooo thank you then."

"You don't do anal? I thought that was what your Little Vibe was for."

"No. No anal for me."

"Why not? Are you one of those people who think that it's wrong?"

"It's not that I think that it's wrong. It just hasn't felt good the times I've tried it. It's uncomfortable for me."

Jessi nodded, "That's pretty common. It just may not be for you, or you may have rushed into it. I didn't like it until someone showed me the right way. I love it now."

"Why do you wax?" I asked, anxious to steer the conversation away from the back door.

"I stared having it done for my modeling jobs and just got used to it. I prefer the way it feels now, but I'll admit that it looks a little bit 'jailbait' with my narrow hips."

This is actually a good point to digress. Let me describe Jessi in better detail for you. She's five foot eight (an inch taller than me), and weighed about 115 pounds at that time. She had chin-length straight hair that was cut in a style to frame her face. It was dyed black back then, but she changed it fairly often. Her natural color was brown anyway, so black wasn't so far off that her eyebrows looked wrong. She had big hazel eyes and full lips with a definite bow to them, and it was easy to see that she would photograph well if somebody knew how to light her properly.

She was mostly legs, narrow hips, and a nice tight butt. We already covered that she kept her pussy bare of hair, which I found freaky at first, but got used to seeing it pretty quickly. Her breasts were small (keep in mind that I really lack perspective on what is normal for this feature) but perfectly round. I remember her bra size being 32A, so that should tell you that she was sort of uniformly narrow without looking too thin.

Her modeling had all been small scale catalog and runway stuff with some swimsuit and lingerie when she was old enough. I saw her portfolio and she was good, but had she been of the caliber to go big time, she would have done it before then. She was realistic about this and had decided to hit the fashion world from the design end of things anyway. She also said that she was too short to do the kind of modeling her body shape was best suited for.

What she did have was an amazing sense of her body in space. She knew exactly what she looked like from the outside at any given time and how to accentuate her positive attributes. This gave her a really practiced grace and confidence. Whereas Angel moved like sex on legs -- all hips and tits; Jessi moved like a dancer -- all posture and presence. There was just enough gangly girl left in her to keep her from being intimidating though.

"You ought to try it," Jessi continued. "I'd be willing to bet money that you'd enjoy being waxed -- well maybe not the actual waxing, but the bare skin afterward."

"I don't know," I said. "I trim a little to not show fur when I have my swimsuit on, but I like my red bush."

"Can I ask a very personal question, E?"

"Can I trust you with the answer?"

"Yes. I don't gossip. I'm very good at keeping secrets. You don't grow up being attracted other girls without learning a few things about keeping secrets."

"Shoot then," I agreed.

"How many girls have you had sex with? I mean real, get naked sex."

"Two," I answered truthfully.

"Neither of them was shaved and neither wanted anal?"

"Correct."

"Huh... I would have bet otherwise. Were they bi or lesbian?"

"One was bi and the other was straight. I was her first and only girl. Why?"

"At some point you will run across a girl who will absolutely insist that you go bare. I've had a few more experiences than you and most of them were 'smoothies'. You will also most likely run across girls who insist on anal. Again, most of my girlfriends considered it normal."

"How many girlfriends, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Five," admitted Jessi after a moment. "I have been modeling for years, and sometimes one thing leads to another when you are half naked around a lot of other girls in a sexually charged, high pressure environment. Only one was serious and what I would call a relationship. The others were just playing around for sex, but none were one-time things. All but one was shaved or waxed.

"I'm not trying to make you feel bad about anything or talk you into doing something you don't want to, so don't think that. I just want you to know that it will come up, so you can think about it before you're put on the spot."

Jessi exaggerated this a bit to support her own preferences, but she was partially correct. Even though I still proudly fly the red flag, I found over the years that more girls were bare by preference than I expected, and I think it's becoming even more common from what I see in the locker room these days. I also found that a lot more girls liked a little anal play than I had expected, but for girls it's a much gentler activity than what guys think of as anal sex. I still don't enjoy it, but that's my hang up, and I'm okay with that.

"This kind of thing happens to me," I said and began to laugh.